


Treasured

by Anxiety_Elemental



Series: Wranduin Week 2020 [4]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Aftercare, Aphrodisiacs, Bondage, Breeding Kink, M/M, PIV Sex, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26415439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anxiety_Elemental/pseuds/Anxiety_Elemental
Summary: “Shaking with fear, I see,” Wrathion says, voice sickly sweet, “You’re right to be afraid, I have such grand plans for you.”
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Series: Wranduin Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914814
Comments: 2
Kudos: 67





	Treasured

**Author's Note:**

> Behold: Filth
> 
> For the prompt Trapped Together.
> 
> Warnings: captive/dubcon roleplay, references to trans pregnancy and childbirth. All sex acts are consensual. Please note the tags

Anduin’s arms are chained behind his back to the wall, a cloth gag in his mouth. He’s sitting on the stone floor wearing only a gray robe, already too hot in the warmth of the mountain. There’s nothing else in the room but a wooden chest set against the opposite wall. He’s unable to do anything but wait, trapped and alone.

He hears familiar footsteps on stone, and his whole body tenses with anticipation.

Wrathion enters the small room, toying with a potion bottle, clear glass with a green liquid inside.

“Right where I left you,” he says with a cruel smile.

He stalks over to where Anduin sits, eyes raking over his body. He leans over to run one finger down the side of Anduin’s face, and Anduin shudders.

“Shaking with fear, I see,” Wrathion says, voice sickly sweet, “You’re right to be afraid, I have such grand plans for you.” Wrathion kneels by his side, uncorks the bottle and puts it down with a clink of glass on stone. He reaches up to untie the gag, removing the cloth from Anduin’s mouth. Before Anduin can take another breath or say a word, Wrathion grabs a fistful of blond hair and yanks his head back. Anduin can just see in his peripheral vision, Wrathion grab the bottle again, and raise it to Anduin’s lips. “Drink,” he commands.

He’s given no choice. The overly sweetened fluid is poured into Anduin’s mouth, gravity forcing him to swallow, until the entire bottle is drained.

“Excellent,” Wrathion purrs, before replacing the gag, retying the knot with a gentleness his words lack. Anduin has to force himself to stay still, as Wrathion stands up and moves a few feet away, admiring his work.

“I bet you’re wondering what I just gave you,” Wrathion says conversationally, while Anduin squirms, already beginning to feel a familiar warmth build inside him, “With Azeroth finally safe I turn my eye toward another duty, one to restore my flight.” Wrathion begins pacing, gesturing with his hands as he speaks, “But I am the last, how am I to repopulate my flight? A conundrum I thought I couldn’t solve! Then I found the recipe for this potion.” Wrathion holds up the now empty bottle, like an appraiser inspecting a jewel, “My flight was responsible for many horrors, but this one I’ve repurposed. It simulates the effect of a draconic heat in mortals, making them more…” Wrathion’s smile is dark, “ _Receptive_.”

(The potion is a simple aphrodisiac, bought at a specialty alchemist, but that wasn’t the point.)

“But if I am to mate with a mortal, it cannot just be any mortal. No, that won’t do at all.” Wrathion continues, “I have to find someone worthy of my legacy, someone powerful and wise.” The heat was starting to roar between Anduin’s legs, need settling in his lungs as his breathing became labored. “But where was I to find such a mortal? I turned my gaze across all of Azeroth, I searched and I searched, until I found the only one who could ever be worthy of me.”

With great speed Wrathion is by his side again, grabbing another fistful of Anduin’s hair, forcing him to look into Wrathion’s bright red eyes, “Imagine how magnificent they will be, the children of an Aspect, and a king.”

Wrathion grabs the collar of Anduin’s robe and pulls, the thin fabric tearing easily, destroying the garment and leaving him naked. Anduin shudders as his already overheated skin is exposed to the volcanic warmth of the room, instinctively curling up to hide himself. There is a deep, pleased rumble from the dragon’s throat, as he runs a finger up the inside of Anduin’s leg.

“And don’t even dream of rescue,” Wrathion adds, continuing to stroke the inside of Anduin’s thigh, maddeningly close to where Anduin needs his hand to be, “I have brought you to the most secret place in the mountain, where I keep only my most precious treasures. No one else knows of this place, and no one will ever find you. No more politics, or wars, or diplomacy for you. But you have nothing to fear, for someone with such a place of honor among my new flight, I will make sure you want for nothing. All I demand is you bear my brood.”

Anduin writhes and tries to speak, demand Wrathion _touch him_ , the gag smothering his words. Wrathion laughs, “So desperate already!” Wrathion says with delight, “Let’s see just how desperate.”

His fingers finally travel up to the wet space between Anduin’s legs, and pushes the first finger inside with ease. Anduin arches his back and bucks into Wrathion’s hand, moaning through the gag. “It seems the potion is doing its work,” Wrathion says, his free hand exploring the plane of his scarred chest, as the finger inside Anduin begins to thrust, “Or perhaps the little king wanted this all along.”

As Wrathion adds a second finger, he leans forward to press a kiss to Anduin’s neck, then a bite, making Anduin’s whole body shake.

“Imagine how scandalized your court would be, if they found you like this,” Wrathion murmurs, “What would your spymaster think of his king, all tied up and at my mercy? Or the old wolf, what would he say if he saw - ”

A sharp, unpleasant jolt gives Anduin enough presence of mind to snap his fingers, he does _not_ want to think about his other advisors right now.

Wrathion gives a quick, short nod, before leaning in to whisper, “You’re all mine now, and you surrender so beautifully.”

Those fingers inside begin to curl and rub, and Wrathion places sharp, possessive bites across Anduin’s neck and shoulders. Wrathion has long since learned all the best ways to touch him, the right places and the right pace, bringing him close, wound up and wanting and almost almost _almost_ -

Wrathion abruptly removes his fingers, and Anduin screams, half-mad from need.

“Not just yet,” Wrathion murmurs, tapping the tip of Anduin’s nose with a damp finger, “But soon, I think you’re now ripe and ready for me.”

Wrathion stands up and steps away, Anduin pulling on his chains trying to follow him. Wrathion grins, takes his time untying his belt, and with a casual flick of his wrist tosses it to one side. He pulls down his pants then his underwear to his knees, his hard, flushed cock springing free, before kneeling before Anduin. Anduin quickly spreads his legs, prompting Wrathion to run his fingers along the inside of Anduin’s thigh again. Anduin moans through the gag, and Wrathion, finally taking pity on the suffering king, takes hold of Anduin’s hips and pushes inside.

“Don’t expect to be done with just one,” Wrathion says, his voice turning into a low growl as he begins to build a rhythm, “When you birth this whelp I’ll put another in you. And after that, another, until you’ve given me a full clutch. And after that, we’ll just have to see.”

Anduin is long past listening to what Wrathion is saying, too lost in the sensation of being filled at last. He wraps his legs around Wrathion’s waist, and clings to him as tight as he can, pulling him in closer, deeper.

“Yes,” Wrathion grunts, eyes bright, “Embrace your new future with me.”

Wrathion’s words were swiftly replaced with heavy panting as he begins to lose himself to his own lust. Fingers dig into Anduin’s skin, Wrathion continues to thrust into him, and Anduin is helpless against him, powerless to do anything but receive.

Wrathion must’ve been close, it takes no time for his breath to catch, to snarl, and forhis body to go rigid, his grip on Anduin growing even tighter. Anduin whines, mouthing at Wrathion’s neck, he _needs_ to get off or he might just explode. One of Wrathion’s hands goes to Anduin’s own cock, and all it takes are a few quick tugs and Anduin collapses with a muffled cry.

They lay together for a moment, neither speaking, the only sound their harsh breathing. Wrathion doesn’t move, still seated inside, waiting to catch his breath. Anduin imagines his seed settling in, deep and safe inside him. He groans, equal parts pleasure and burning shame. His body aches, sated, and pleasantly exhausted. After an uncertain amount of time, Wrathion finally stirs, nuzzling Anduin’s ear.

“Done?” Wrathion asks. Anduin nods, and Wrathion presses a soft kiss to his forehead.

He pulls away slowly, mindful of how sore Anduin can be after a rough session. Gentle hands remove the gag, now soaked in sweat and spit. Wrathion then runs a finger across each shackle, popping open at his touch. Wrathion takes Anduin’s hands, inspecting his wrists noting the red marks that will need healing later. When he’s satisfied, he places those hands in Anduin’s lap. Anduin, for his part, is content to sit boneless and let Wrathion do the work. Wrathion stands and goes to the chest by the opposite wall, opening lid and rummaging inside.

“Do you need the antidote?” Wrathion asks, looking over his shoulder. Anduin shakes his head, he feels perfectly spent. Wrathion continues to grab things from the chest for a moment, before returning to sit at Anduin’s side.

“Anduin, my dear,” Wrathion begins, holding out a water bottle, “I love you and I enjoy these scenes, but it does worry me somewhat that _this_ is what you fantasize about.”

Anduin hides his embarrassed blush by taking the bottle and then a long swig of water, kept cool thanks to an enchantment, “From the way you were talking,” he retorts, “It sounded like I’m the one who should be worried.”

“Then I have done my job,” Wrathion says, preening, “And if you think so highly of my acting, perhaps I should join the Stormwind theater. I could even write a play to star in, The Handsome King And The Dragon With the Great Big - ”

Anduin smacks his shoulder, but he’s unable to suppress a grin, “You wouldn’t _dare_.”

Wrathion sighs, and places a hand over his heart, “And thus, my acting career ends! The cruelest tragedy. Come, the bath should be ready by now,” he scoops up Anduin by wrapping one arm under his shoulders, the other under his knee, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Anduin settles comfortably into Wrathion’s arms, more than ready for a cool soak.


End file.
